


That's a Good Deal?

by Pony Girl (Jackjunkie)



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Action/Adventure, Amnesia, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 01:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackjunkie/pseuds/Pony%20Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heyes and Curry's amnesty is at stake when Lom gets amnesia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's a Good Deal?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Just You, Me and the Governor #12

Without a single warning quack, the duck fell from the sky and knocked Lom Trevors out cold.

Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had come to town for the express purpose of meeting their friend Lom. Sheriff Trevors was on his way back to Porterville from Cheyenne, where he had met with the governor. Anxious to learn the latest news about their amnesty, Heyes and Curry had picked Weepy Forks as a likely place to intercept him along his route home. Perhaps they should have chosen a location with a cheerier name, for the news he had to tell them was not at all the sort to make them happy.

"Now, boys, you know the governor had other business to concentrate on, what with the preparations for his upcoming birthday celebration and his parade and all." Trevors paused along a quiet stretch of street so they could finish their conversation in private before they reached the crowded saloon, where they might easily be overheard.

"Lom, are you saying you didn't even discuss the amnesty?" Heyes' mouth formed a tight line, clamping down his disappointment.

"No, I'm not saying that. Like I told you, I was there mainly to discuss the governor's plans for his visit to Porterville during his tour of the territory, but I did manage to get in a word with him about you two. He believes you're on the right track, but he wants you to be patient a while longer. The political climate's just not favorable to your amnesty right now."

"Oh, that's just great," Kid Curry complained. "Every day that goes by without that amnesty means another day our lives are on the line, but all our grand governor's worried about is what kind of cake to serve at his party and what fancy tophat he's gonna wave to the crowds while he parades around Wyoming."

"Kid, don't be so harsh," his partner remonstrated, a glint in his brown eyes. "It's a hard job bein' governor. Not like us. It don't take hardly any planning to dodge bullets and bounty hunters. We got it easy."

"Now, Heyes, you got it all wrong," Lom contradicted him. "The governor understands what you're going through. Put yourselves in his position."

"That's exactly what we'd like to do," Curry told him wryly. "Not that we need a mansion full of servants. I'd settle for any place where I could sleep easy, without always needin' to keep one eye open and one hand by my gun."

Trevors sighed. "What I mean is, try to see things from the other side. It won't do you any good if he announces your amnesty and a public outcry makes him retract it. The banks and railroads have their share of power, as you well know, and they're just not ready to go along with this yet. He needs their solid support behind him before he can proceed with any action on your behalf."

"Then why isn't he doing something about that instead of traipsing around to teas and socials?" Curry objected.

Lom shook his head. "Birthday parties and town visits may seem like a waste of time, but they are exactly the kind of functions that strengthen his standing with local politicians, bankers, and businessmen. Politics is a game and you'll have to trust the governor knows a little more about the rules involved than you do."

Heyes lifted his hat and resettled it on his head. "I've noticed the governor has a way of holding the winning cards. I hate to admit it, but that does make a kind of sense," he said sourly.

"Heyes, not you, too," the Kid protested.

"No, think about it, Kid," Heyes forestalled him. "It stands to reason the more friends the governor makes with folks, the likelier they are to stand behind his decisions, and the sooner he'll be able to grant our amnesty."

"Listen to your partner, Kid," said Trevors. "He's being sensible."

"He'll come around. He's just a mite slower to catch on to things." Heyes grinned at the blond.

Curry just scowled. "How long you figure all this socializing's gonna take?"

Trevors considered. "It's a big territory, bound to take a while to get all around it. I'll keep you in touch with any progress."

"I'm gettin' tired of the way we keep coming out on the short end of this deal. Anything we can do to up the odds, you might say, and help things along?" inquired Heyes.

"Just keep on staying out of trouble, the way you've been doing. Those little jobs you've done for the governor now and then haven't hurt either. A few more of those and he may have enough material in your favor to support him when he proposes the amnesty."

"Lom, those 'little' jobs have a way of stirrin' up more trouble than we ever could on our own. I know, I know, look at it from the governor's position," the Kid subsided.

"You boys asked me to be your go-between. You may get tired of me talking to you about the governor's point of view, but when I'm with him, I try to get him to see things your way. That's what I figure a go-between's for."

"You're right, Lom," Heyes agreed. "We're not questioning your actions. We know you've been doing everything you can to help. We're just anxious for it all to be settled. You can understand that."

"You know I can. That's why you asked me, on account of my own past. If anyone can see things your way, it's me. Now if I were you, Heyes, here's what I'd do..."

It was at that moment that the duck fell onto Lom's head, laying him flat in the street and cutting off whatever he was about to propose.

The duck bounced onto the hard-packed dirt of the street and cracked into two separate pieces, its yellow-painted bill smiling up at them while its jauntily cocked white tail feathers rocked slowly back and forth in the dust.

Curry and Heyes spared it barely a glance as they bent over their unconscious friend and tried to determine how badly he was hurt.

"Duckoo fly." Uttered in a small, high-pitched voice, the words wafted down to them from somewhere above their heads.

Glancing up, they heard an older, feminine voice reply, "No, Joey, I told you this duckoo does not fly." They saw a woman lean out of a second-story window in the building next to them and peer down at the scene below. "Mercy!" she exclaimed, withdrawing from the window and from their sight.

Turning back to Trevors, they tried to revive him, but with no success.

A door banged open and a woman erupted onto the street. Hovering over them, she clutched a tow-headed toddler in her arms as she exclaimed, "Oh, I'm so sorry! I told Joey that statue wouldn't fly like a real duck, but he just had to see for himself. Oh, is he hurt bad?"

"Don't know, ma'am," Curry replied with a touch of his hat brim. "That's what we're trying to see."

"He's out cold," added Heyes. "I don't think he'll be waking up anytime soon."

"Duckoo break," plaintively observed the little boy, reaching out towards the broken pieces of statue lying in the street.

"Yes, let's hope that's the only thing that broke," said the agitated woman. "We must get him to the doctor. Come, you'll have to carry him. I'll show you the way." She started off down the street.

Carefully lifting their friend, Heyes and Curry followed her to the doctor's office.

While Dr. Everard examined Lom in an inner room, the woman introduced herself. "I'm Mrs. Ganz and this is my son, Joey. Oh, I'll never forgive myself if, if..." she faltered.

"Now, ma'am, no one blames you or the little boy, least of all Sheriff Trevors. It was an accident," Heyes said kindly.

"Our friend's got a hard head," added the Kid. "I'm bettin' he'll come through just fine."

"I believe you're right, Mr. Jones." The three waiting adults quickly stood up as, wiping his hands on a towel, the doctor entered the waiting room. "As far as I can tell, Sheriff Trevors has a sizable lump on his head, but no serious damage. From what you told me, it's a good thing his hat cushioned the blow or we might be dealing with a cracked skull. As it is, I think he'll recover with nothing worse than a bad headache. I'll know more when he comes to."

"Thank the Lord!" exclaimed Mrs. Ganz.

"Amen to that," Heyes added. "Doc, we'd like to wait around until he does wake up if that's okay by you."

"Of course, make yourselves comfortable. I'll just go heat up some coffee. I could use a cup myself."

"I have to take Joseph home, but I'll check by later to see how the sheriff's doing. Doctor, remember everything goes on my bill."

Everard nodded as he departed to fetch the coffee.

"Ma'am, it's not necessary for you to pay..." Curry began.

"No, please let me do it." Placing a supplicating hand on his arm, she looked from one man to the other as she added sincerely, "I feel responsible for him getting hurt. I'm so relieved he's going to be all right. I need to help in some way. If there's anything more I can do..."

"You've done so much already, ma'am," Heyes told her gratefully. "You just go along and take care of that fine boy of yours. We'll see to Lom's recovery."

She bade them good-bye and hustled out the door with her son, who laughed and waved at them over her shoulder.

The two men watched them go and then resumed their seats.

Curry tossed his hat on a chair with a sigh. "Of all the crazy things to happen," he said, stretching out his legs.

"I guess we'd better plan on staying in town for a while," Heyes said. "Least till we see Lom through this."

The doctor returned and they all settled down to wait over steaming cups of coffee.

*****

"He's come round all right," Dr. Everard said as he emerged from the room where he'd just examined Lom.

"That's great, Doc. Can we see him now?"

"One moment, Mr. Smith. I'm afraid there's a complication."

"Complication?" Curry frowned. "What kinda complication? Thought you said he wasn't hurt too bad."

"Well, yes, there's no fracture or anything of a physical nature. I'm afraid your friend has amnesia."

"Am-what?" Heyes asked.

"Amnesia," repeated the doctor. "It means he's lost his memory. Physically he's recovering nicely, except for the lump and headache I mentioned, which will gradually dissipate. His vision, speech, reflexes, and so forth all seem normal. However, Sheriff Trevors can't recall his name, occupation, or other information relating to his identity, or the events leading to his injury."

"Doc, that sounds serious. Are you saying he's lost his mind?" Heyes asked in concern.

"Not at all, no, his mental processes are functioning properly in other respects. He hasn't lost basic knowledge. He simply can't remember who he is or what happened to him. A blow to the head can sometimes have that effect, but usually it's temporary."

"Well, how long will it take until he remembers all of that?" asked the Kid.

"Hard to say. Could be tomorrow, next week, next year...or never." Everard shook his head sorrowfully. "There's just not enough information about cases like this."

"Can't you do anything to fix him up?" asked Heyes. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"There's very little I can do in the way of treatment." The doctor paced across the room, then turned to regard them earnestly. "I can't guarantee that anything will work, but I can make some suggestions."

"We understand, Doc. Go ahead," said Curry.

"The best thing I know of to stimulate his memory is familiar people, familiar surroundings. So yes, as his friends, you can help. Spend time with him, talk to him, but don't put too much pressure on him to remember everything right away. Be very careful not to force any knowledge on him that he's not willing to hear."

"You mean Lom might not want to remember things?" Heyes frowned. "He wants to get better, don't he?"

"I'm sure he does, but many things about the mind are still a mystery to science. Your friend's system has undergone a shock. There's no telling how he'll react if you try to make him accept his identity too soon. It's my opinion that when he's ready to remember, he'll remember. In the meantime, offer him the familiarity of your company, but try to go along with his wishes."

Heyes raked a hand through his hair. "Thanks for the advice, Doc."

"Yeah, thanks," Curry concurred with his partner.

The two men entered the sickroom to face their injured friend.

*****

"Hiya, Lom," said Heyes in a hearty voice and with a big smile. "I sure am glad to see you awake again."

"Lom," the Kid nodded, in a much quieter manner, with a probing look from intent blue eyes.

Trevors was sitting up in bed, looking somewhat the worse for wear. He gave them a blank look. "Do I know you?"

"Sure you know us, Lom. We're old friends," Heyes replied.

"We are?" Lom looked from one to the other uncertainly. "What did you call me?"

"Lom," Heyes repeated. "Lom Trevors. That's your name."

"You're a sheriff in Porterville," added the Kid.

Knitting his brow in concentration, Lom slowly repeated the name aloud, then shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell," he said. "What are your names?"

Exchanging an uneasy look with his partner, Heyes replied, "Well, see, Lom, that's a little bit tricky. To everyone else hereabouts, we go by Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones." He looked hopefully at the sheriff, but Trevors continued to look blank. Heyes resumed his tale. "You're the one gave us those aliases, Lom. We can't use our real names in public because, well, like Thaddeus here said, you're a sheriff, and you're working out a deal with the governor to get us an amnesty because, um, we ain't exactly been law-abiding citizens."

"But that's all behind us now," Curry hastened to add.

"Yes, we've changed our lawbreaking ways. We're going straight and we've been working real hard on getting that amnesty the governor promised. Any of this making any sense to you at all?" Heyes asked.

"Can't say as it is much. If I'm a sheriff and you two are outlaws of some kind, why haven't I arrested you?"

"'Cause we're such old friends, Lom," the Kid explained. "Fact is, you were once an outlaw yourself, and you mended your evil ways, which is why you could understand when we wanted to do the same."

"I was an outlaw?" Lom repeated reflectively.

Heyes eagerly confirmed this. "Yes, and if you could become a lawman, why, the least we should be able to do is to stay honest. You're doing us a real good turn there with the amnesty, and you have a couple of real grateful friends here in, uh..." He paused and cleared his throat. "Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry."

"Hannibal Heyes," Lom said.

"That's right," Heyes nodded encouragingly.

"Kid Curry?" Lom eyed the Kid.

"That's me," Curry agreed.

"Ya know, I think it's starting to come back to me," Lom told them. "Outlaws...bank and train robbers, that's it. You're Kid Curry," he said with more certainty.

"You got it. See, I knew it was just a matter of time till you were good as new," Heyes laughed in relief.

"You are Kid Curry," Lom said again, "and I...I'm Hannibal Heyes!" He looked at his friends triumphantly.

Curry cast a wry glance at his partner, whose mouth had fallen open, though quite uncharacteristically not a word was coming out. "Yup. Good as new."

*****

"Hannibal Heyes?! You're not Hannibal Heyes! I'm Han-mfm-mm..." Heyes finally found his voice only to have it abruptly stifled by the hand of Kid Curry.

"Shh!" Curry hissed in Heyes' ear. "Not so fast. Don't ya remember what the doc said?" He dragged his partner away from Lom's bed to a far corner and carefully removed his hand from over Heyes' mouth. "You rest a while, Heyes," he directed to Lom. "Me an' Smith here'll talk quietly so as not to disturb you none."

Lom obligingly closed his eyes and lay back on his pillow.

Heyes glared at the Kid and hissed back, "Don't ever do that again! And what are ya talkin' about what the doc said?"

"How we're not s'posed ta make Lom face who he is. He said we should go along with Lom's ideas."

"Yeah, that's right, he did say that," Heyes reluctantly conceded. "But he was talking about not making him remember some things. He didn't say anything about making him remember the wrong things."

"We didn't make him decide he's Hannibal Heyes," the Kid pointed out.

"Kid, this is crazy! We can't let Lom think he's me!"

"Why not? You ain't figgerin' on announcin' your claim to the name to the townsfolk here, are you?"

"Well, no..."

"Look, it's a good sign something's coming back to him, ain't it? He knows me, he knows Hannibal Heyes, well sort of anyhow. We go along with him for now, we get him started home for Porterville tomorrow, we talk to him about things we done together, and then once he gets to a familiar place like the doc said, maybe he'll remember more."

"He'd better remember. Of all the rotten deals... If he keeps on thinking he's me, we can say good-bye to our amnesty."

Grasping Heyes' shoulders, the Kid spoke urgently. "We gotta play the cards we're dealt, don't we? Don't you think the best chance for our amnesty is to follow the doc's plan? That means the way to get him to remember is to ease him into things and not force him none."

"Hmph. Well, if Lom's going to be me, who am I supposed to be? Lom?"

The Kid released his hold on his partner with a smiling shake of his head. "You're Joshua Smith, remember? Just another close friend of Curry and Heyes."

"Yeah, real close, to Heyes in particular. Okay, say I go along with this fool notion. How are we gonna explain to the doctor that the sheriff now thinks he's an outlaw?"

"We don't hafta tell him anything if we get Lom to see it's best not to let folks in on who he is so he don't get thrown in jail. Or else we just tell the doc that chasin' all them outlaws has got things kinda muddled in Lom's head and we'll try to help straighten him out. I figure you could talk him into believing anything you say. Lom didn't take your silver tongue away just 'cause he's usin' your name. Why are you bein' so down on all this?"

"I dunno, Kid. It kinda takes me like that whenever you start gettin' ideas. They ain't worked out so good in the past you know."

"This ain't my idea, it's the doc's, remember?"

"I remember. I ain't the one got amnesia. You were sure paying attention to what the doc said, weren't you?"

"A body can listen pretty well when he ain't occupied in talkin' so much," the Kid drawled.

Heyes shot him a measuring look, but all he said was, "What worries me is that everything you said makes sense. All right, let's go talk to the doc and see if we can take Lom home tomorrow."

*****

Bright and early the next morning they started on the road to Porterville.

As they rode along, they chatted about old times. Heyes kept bringing the subject back around to the amnesty, but Lom was more interested in reminiscing about Heyes and Curry's exploits in lawbreaking.

"Tell me about another train robbery," he said. "Wasn't there one time when I opened a safe, but it was empty because we were too early and they hadn't picked up the payroll yet?"

"I remember that," muttered Heyes. "Someone got the schedule mixed up and we stopped the train before it got to the right station." He glowered at Curry.

"That was a long time ago," the Kid answered mildly, "but that's the way it happened all right. See there, L--, er, Heyes, you are remembering things."

"Yeah, but it seems like it was all a long time ago. Why can't I remember a job we pulled lately?"

"Like we told you, we haven't pulled any jobs for a while on account of the amnesty," the Kid replied patiently.

Trevors' short-term memory had apparently been affected, too. He just couldn't seem to retain some of the things they repeated to him over and over, like the information about the amnesty. Of course, the Kid reminded Heyes, that could be one of the things he didn't want to remember, as Dr. Everard had predicted. Heyes said that sounded likely, but he didn't see why they shouldn't keep bringing it up as long as Lom didn't appear upset by talking about it, merely uninterested.

"That amnesty's real important to us," reinforced Heyes again.

"I don't know," Lom disagreed. "Sounds like an iffy proposition to me. This governor doesn't seem too set on the idea if he's been putting us off for this long."

"That's why we're counting on help from our friend, Sheriff Trevors." Heyes enunciated the name extra loudly and slowly, as though it would trigger Lom's memory better that way. It produced no reaction from Trevors, however.

"You just wait till we get to Porterville," the Kid told Lom encouragingly. "I'll bet everything will clear up for you then."

"That's another thing," Lom objected. "Don't see why we're heading for this Porterville anyhow. 'Pears to me we oughta be making for Devil's Hole so we can meet up with the boys and plan another job."

"No, now we settled all this already," the Kid explained yet again. "I'm sure you'll understand when we reach Porterville. Trust us."

"Yeah, Heyes, if you can't trust your own partner What's-his-name and your good friend Smith, who can you trust?" Heyes asked, with a wry twist to his mouth.

"Well, guess I'll ride along with you for now," Lom said agreeably. "We can always rob a train after we're done there. Or how about the bank? A town like that oughta have a bank with a safe just stuffed full o' money, and there hasn't been a safe made that can keep Hannibal Heyes out."

Heyes thought about what it had taken for them to blow up the Brooker 404 in the Porterville bank once upon a time. He sighed. They never had told Lom the whole truth about that and he wasn't about to now. He exchanged a long-suffering look with the Kid.

"Heyes," Curry began, recalling Lom's wandering attention, "let me explain to you about the amnesty one more time..."

*****

They spent the morning going over past events with Lom. He seemed to recall bits and pieces of their past, either things that had happened to all of them together or things about the other two he'd heard about. He remained firmly convinced that he was Hannibal Heyes and oblivious of the amnesty.

Along about noon they were all feeling hungry and in need of a break. They were discussing stopping for lunch when they heard singing from the trail ahead.

"Sounds like we'll have company," remarked the Kid.

"Considering my condition, it's probably better to start small and work back up to a train or bank," said Lom. "What better way to begin than with a little highway robbery?" He spurred his horse ahead of his two companions.

"What the...?" uttered the Kid in confusion.

"Lom, I mean Heyes, I mean...come back here!" yelled Heyes, urging his horse after Trevors.

Curry followed close behind.

The singing had stopped by the time they caught up to Lom. They reined their horses to a halt and took in the sight of their friend the sheriff holding a gun on a man standing beside a campfire, his hands raised in the air. A large caravan-style wagon was parked next to them. The words "Dr. Brumbaugh's Traveling Medicine Show" were painted in fancy red letters on its side.

"Heyes," Heyes said coaxingly as he dismounted. "Now, Heyes, you don't want to do this."

The Kid also got down from his horse. He stood far enough away from Trevors to avoid spooking him. "Crime don't pay, you're the one convinced us of that. What do you want to go robbing this fella for anyhow? Prob'ly ain't got nuthin' worth stealin'."

"No, that's where you're wrong," Lom countered. "These snake oil salesmen make piles of money, cheating honest folks out of their hard-earned cash. Now turn it over or I'll shoot." He waved his gun at the man menacingly.

"I certainly do not cheat anyone, my good man, and I have testimonials to the beneficial effects of my health tonic from many a satisfied customer. You ought to listen to your friends," the presumed Dr. Brumbaugh counseled. He kept his hands up but made no move to hand over his money. "You don't want to be robbing me."

"Sure I do. I do this all the time."

"Not any more. You've gone straight," the Kid reminded him.

"I'm beginning to see how much work there is to stopping crimes," Heyes muttered.

"No, I mean you really don't want to be robbing me," Dr. Brumbaugh reiterated.

"I'm an outlaw, I rob folks."

"Think of the amnesty," pleaded Curry.

"Think of your friends," urged Heyes.

"I have friends, too, who wouldn't take kindly to what you're trying to do to me," Brumbaugh said.

"You can tell 'em to take it up with me later, but right now you're the one I'm talking to, and I say hand over your money." Lom aimed his pistol, preparing to shoot.

"I believe one of them might wish to take it up with you right now." Dr. Brumbaugh nodded towards the area over Lom's shoulder.

Lom just laughed. "You must think I'm a real greenhorn to fall for that old trick."

"Uh, Lom..." Heyes gulped.

He and Curry froze in place as they watched the so-called friend lumber around from behind the wagon and tap Lom's shoulder.

Trevors turned slowly around to behold a very large, very shaggy brown bear looming over him, standing upright on its hind legs and waving its forepaws in the air. After tapping him once again lightly with a paw, the creature opened its mouth to display very large, pointed teeth and let out a deafening roar.

Lom began to shake. The gun fell from his hand to the ground. Lom followed it, sinking to his knees before the huge animal.

"Sadie, hush! Hush, I say," admonished Dr. Brumbaugh.

The bear stopped roaring and dropped to all fours, but made no move to attack.

"S-Sadie?" asked the Kid, blinking.

"F-friend of yours?" marvelled Heyes.

"She is indeed. There's no need to be afraid. She wasn't attacking, she probably just wanted to dance with him." Dr. Brumbaugh was now petting and scratching the bear like she was a giant dog.

"Dance?" The Kid couldn't seem to get beyond one-word sentences.

"That's right. Sadie's a dancing bear. She travels with me and we perform together. Sadie's a real good saleslady, aren't you, girl?"

The Kid licked dry lips and Heyes laughed weakly. They walked cautiously up to Lom to assist him to his feet.

"Heyes? Heyes, it's all right, you can get up now. She won't hurt you," the real Heyes gently assured him.

"Heyes?" Trevors turned his head away from the sight of the bear at last and focused on his friend's brown eyes. "Why'd you call me that, H--, er, Smith?"

A smile lit up Heyes' face as he pulled Trevors to his feet. "You know me, Lom?" he asked.

"Lom, you remember?" the Kid inquired happily.

Lom looked from one to the other a bit shakily, then nodded. "Yup. I do. I gotta tell you boys, when I was facing that bear, my whole life flashed before my eyes and ya know what?" He looked back to Heyes. "It wasn't yours."

"Ya-hoo!" whooped the Kid. "Looks like you and your bear done us a good turn, Dr. Brumbaugh is it?"

"Yes, I'm Dr. Brumbaugh. Does this mean you've changed your mind about robbing me after all?"

"Oh, that was all a misunderstanding," Heyes quickly spoke up. "Sheriff Trevors here hasn't been well, but he'd never really rob anyone." He looked around the little campsite. "Tell you what. Why don't we sit down for a spell and explain the story to you over some lunch - that is, if Sadie won't take exception to our presence. As a medical man, I'm sure you'll be fascinated by such an unusual case."

"You've sure enough got me curious, young man. Sadie will behave as long as she sees you're being friendly. She's a very well-mannered bear."

They sat down around the campfire to eat and talk things over. Brumbaugh was indeed fascinated by the tale and urged a bottle of his tonic on Trevors. "It will have you feeling hale and fit again in no time," he promised. "Steady your nerves, too, which I perceive to be a trifle on edge."

"I think it's Sadie that's makin' him jumpy, Doc, not his nerves," grinned Curry, watching the bear nose Lom for a handout. She did seem to have taken a shine to him, though the feeling did not appear to be mutual.

"What's the matter, Lom?" Heyes matched his partner's grin. "Don't you cotton to your dancing partner?"

"Sadie generally prefers to dance by herself," Dr. Brumbaugh informed them. "You should consider her attention a compliment, Sheriff."

Tossing her a biscuit, Trevors sidled over to put a bit more distance between himself and Sadie. "I'm sure she's a fine bear. I've just never been much of a one for dancing."

"That's a fact. I've seen him dance," Heyes said. "He'd be an embarrassment to any self-respecting dancing bear."

Lom joined in the ensuing laughter at his expense. Though still a bit shaky, he was acting more like his old self and seemed to have recovered all of his memory.

After the meal, all the travelers resumed their separate journeys. Dr. Brumbaugh and Sadie continued down the road toward Weepy Forks, promising to stop in and tell Dr. Everard how things had turned out. There was no longer any need for Heyes and Curry to accompany Lom all the way to Porterville, so they planned to part from him at the next town and take the road west from there.

"I can see how such a hard knock on the head would rattle your brains some, Lom," the Kid commented as the three rode along, "but of all the people you coulda been for a while, why d'you suppose you picked on Heyes here?"

"Yeah, why...hey, wait a minute, why not me?" He regarded the Kid's bland smile suspiciously.

"Heyes, if you could be anybody else, would you pick an outlaw with a price on his head?"

"Well, no."

Lom puzzled it over. "I can't rightly say. I didn't exactly pick and choose, you know. It just happened."

"You were giving us advice just before you got hit," Heyes recalled, "and it seems to me you were saying something about what you'd do if you were me. Maybe that got mixed up in your mind when you were hit."

"Makes about as much sense as anything else in this whole mess does," Lom agreed.

"What were you about to tell us, Lom?" the Kid inquired.

"It must have got knocked plumb out of my head," Trevors confessed.

"Well, if it ever happens again, try and pick somebody else to be, willya? Heyes sulked the whole time."

"I did not sulk," Heyes loftily contradicted. "It's just kind of discombobulating to be holding a conversation with myself is all."

"How did you feel, Lom, looking at the world through Heyes' eyes?" asked Curry.

Lom considered. "It was more like I was back in the old days again. I never thought I wanted to go back. I guess it must be a little harder for you two to get out than it was for me. I'll keep after the governor about the amnesty. Just don't you go back."

"We don't plan on it," Heyes said.

The Kid nodded agreement.

"That's okay then," said Lom. "You just gotta keep ducking trouble till the governor figures you deserve the amnesty."

Curry looked at Heyes in astonishment. "Did he just make a joke?"

Heyes nodded in wonderment. "I think he did. I didn't know you could joke, Lom."

"Must still be a little Heyes left in me," Lom answered. "I'll work on it. Meanwhile, you'll just have to bear with me."

The Kid groaned. "What would the governor say if he could hear you? In fact, I wonder what the governor would say about the sheriff of Porterville taking to highway robbery."

"You wouldn't..." Lom began.

Heyes grinned. "Don't worry, Lom, it'll be our secret."

"That's a good deal?"

THE END


End file.
